


Gotta Love That Karaoke

by VampAmber



Category: Supernatural
Genre: And I still suck at tags, Bunker Fic, Complete, Dean is emotionally constipated, Dean is honest when drunk, Destiel - Freeform, Drunk Dean, Emotionally Repressed Dean, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Karaoke, M/M, One Shot, Sam Is So Done, Sam Knows, Sam Ships It, Slightly angsty fluff, based on a prompt, drunk!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-01 11:51:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8623465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampAmber/pseuds/VampAmber
Summary: Alcohol removes your inhibitions, and makes it easier to say the things you want to but just can't for whatever reason. In no one is this more true than in Dean Winchester. A half dozen or so too many shots at karaoke leads to him making a bit of a fool of himself (shouting out your hidden love of a certain angel of the lord can do that to a guy), but it seems like everything he tries only makes it worse on Castiel, especially since he can't remember a thing past shot 14 or so. Sometimes when you mess up, things can be fixed. Maybe some mistakes are really for the best?





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was based off of a prompt, of a sort, that was posted in one of my groups on Facebook ([DESTIEL FOREVER](https://www.facebook.com/groups/115057981983004/)). I read it, and my plot bunnies decided to reproduce and have this new one start gnawing at my left knee cap, which I just could not have because that one's my favorite one. So, yeah, here it is. Got away from me a bit, but there you go. Enjoy.
> 
> As usual, feel free to point out any mistakes. I'm usually good at this, but typos have a habit of hiding until after you've left and then throwing raging keggers with all their friends.
> 
> Also, never make author's notes when sleep deprived. You might get this (but no worries, the story itself is just fine).
> 
> **Attention:** Photobucket is currently being a wonky bitch, so I can't upload the picture that inspired this fic, but as soon as Photobucket decides to actually function, I'll be putting it right around here somewhere. My apologies (because I know Photobucket won't apologize).

The karaoke had been Sam's idea. They'd just finished working an incredibly exhausting case that had run all three of them ragged (and when a case can run two very seasoned hunters and a freaking angel ragged, you know it was a toughie), and Sam had suggested a night out to relax and unwind before the next apocalypse started or whatever. Their favorite bar near the bunker was having a karaoke night special that evening, so that explained why they were sitting in a booth, with some blonde girl who couldn't be anywhere near legal enough to be in a bar belting out an old Shania Twain song on the small stage.

The multiple empty shot glasses, or at least what had once filled them, had of course been Dean's idea. Sam had started swaying a little bit, though the big moose had so much room to store the alcohol that he wasn't near as bad off as his brother, who was already slurring his words and blinking a bunch, trying to see through the haze covering his vision. Even Castiel was a little bit mellower than usual, even though Dean had managed to convince him to drink nearly twice as much as the other two, grumbling the whole time about “damn angel metabolism.”

The blonde girl's song finally over, the gruff looking bartender stepped up to the microphone and announced the next singer, which just so happened to be Dean. Sam started cheering loudly as Dean half sauntered/half stumbled to the stage, and even Castiel let out a mild mannered whoop or two. Dean adjusted the microphone's stand (that blonde girl had been short as well as young looking, what was she, ten?) as the first strands of “Enter Sandman” by Metallica started playing. Dean loved this song, and he loved this bar, and... The words started scrolling, and he did his best to keep up. If he didn't already have the whole song memorized, he'd have probably been a lot more screwed than he actually was. 

About two thirds of the way through, Dean looked over at Castiel, who was watching him intently, occasionally taking a sip from his beer bottle. Dean loved that damn angel, too. Cas was just... too damn perfect sometimes. Always helping them out, always there by his side. And while Dean wasn't usually that into dudes, the guy sure did look beyond smoking in that rumpled tie and trench coat number he always wore. Didn't even take it off to get drunk in. How adorable was that?

When Dean realized he'd missed the entire line that just finished scrolling, he decided to just screw it and shouted into the microphone “Hey you! Angel!” When Cas looked up, confused, Dean continued, already forgetting about the song lyrics scrolling across the screen. “Yeah you... the hot one. Wanna know a secret?” Cas tilted his head to the side in that unbelievably sexy way that he did so often, and it made Dean's voice go even louder as he threw his arms out wide. “I love you!”

The crowd was starting to laugh now, but still Dean didn't notice. He only had eyes for Cas. “That's right! It's looooove!!!” Now the crowd was really laughing, and the bartender in charge was making his way over to the stage, but Dean didn't care. He'd been in love with Cas for.. he couldn't even remember, but it didn't matter, because he'd always been afraid to say anything. Cas was a guy, and an angel, and hunters never lived long, and the list of reasons why not was endless, but damn it, Dean really wanted to say this, and those twelve.. or was it fourteen? Seventeen? Those lots of shots were helping to ease the process. “Bow-chicka-wow-wow kind of love. Ya feel me? ...Yeah, you do.” 

Not noticing the stunned expression on his brother's face, and turning back to the screen before seeing how Cas reacted, Dean went back to singing the last few lines of the song before it ended. He stumbled off the stage and right into the arms of the bartender, who politely but forcefully suggested that he leave. Sam was there in a few seconds to take his severely inebriated brother from the bartender, already carrying Dean's leather jacket, muttering all the apologies he could think of. Castiel trailed behind the two, still somewhat bewildered by the whole affair.

~~~

When they arrived back at the bunker, Sam dragged Dean's mostly passed out body to his room to put him into bed (Sam had refused Castiel's help when he asked, claiming that “this isn't the first time this happened and it surely won't be the last, knowing Dean, so I know exactly what I'm doing” while Dean muttered something about cheeseburgers or something else equally incoherent), while Castiel headed to the area they had finally managed to turn into a functional living room. He sat down on the couch, trying to process the things Dean had shouted into the microphone. Did he really mean them? Castiel hoped so, because the angel, if he were willing to be completely honest with himself, had probably been in love with Dean since that very first moment he saw that bright and beautiful soul, shining through the Pit itself.

Wondering what exactly would happen when Dean woke up and was once again sober, Castiel turned the television set on to keep himself occupied while he waited for the two humans to finish sleeping.

Sam woke up around the same time he usually did the next morning, and after starting up the coffee maker, he poked his head into the living room and motioned for Castiel to come sit with him while he drank his first cup of the morning. “So, last night...” Sam started awkwardly, after they had both sat down in the kitchen.

Castiel just nodded, not sure what to say himself.

“Dean gets like that sometimes,” Sam tried again, still not doing very well.

“I have noticed,” Castiel said, trying to sound neutral because he wasn't sure which direction this conversation was headed.

“He's always totally honest when he's that drunk, though,” Sam rushed out, all in one breath. The sigh of relief from the angel made him continue. “He holds all that crap in usually, you know? Probably because of how Dad was, I don't know. But he holds everything in and then, when he gets so drunk he can't see straight, woosh, it all comes out in one big whatever.” Sam shrugs. “It's how it's pretty much always been, ever since he was 18 and got his first fake ID for bar hopping purposes.”

“So all of...” Castiel waved his hand about in a vague gesture. “All of that was true? How he really feels?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” Sam said before taking another sip of his coffee. “Kinda obvious before now, though. The way he looks at you sometimes. He doesn't look at anybody else like that. And he's always going out of his way to touch you. Kinda out of character with him.” Castiel just nodded. “Pretty sure he's been crushing on you for awhile now, Cas.”

“Crushing?” Cas asked, confused once again.

“Umm, it means he's romantically attracted to you.”

“In a 'bow-chicka-wow-wow' sort of way?” Castiel said, even going so far as to use air quotes around the weird phrase Dean had used last night. “And what exactly does that even mean?”

“It means he...” Sam started blushing somewhat furiously at this point, and lowered his voice until it would've been inaudible for anybody that didn't have enhanced angelic hearing. “That he... wants to have... uh... sex with you......” Sam's face a deep scarlet, he grabbed his now empty coffee cup and rushed over to put it in the sink. “I'm just... gonna go on my run now. A really, really, really long run.” He all but ran to the bunker's doorway, still a dark shade of red. Castiel just stared after him.

An hour or so later, with still no returning Sam in sight, a very rumpled and grumpy looking Dean staggered out of his bedroom and into the kitchen, where Castiel was preparing a second pot of coffee.

“Hey Cas,” he muttered out of habit, rubbing at his eyes. He had the most obvious looking hangover Castiel had ever seen, and he'd seen many (quite a few of them being Dean's). “The hell happened last night?” Dean asked as he grabbed his mug and filled it, not even waiting for the coffee to cool before taking a long gulp. He made a face in response to the heat, but then took a second, longer gulp.

“You don't remember?” Castiel asked, tilting his head. This hadn't been one of the possibilities he'd come up with while watching television last night.

“Something about... I think I ordered another round of Jack, and said you had to drink two because of your metabolism and then... I think I sang? How bad was I? I don't really remember anything past those last few shots.” Dean chugged the last of his coffee before pouring a second cup and pulling a bottle of pain killers from the pocket of his dean man's robe. He popped the top, shook out the recommended dose, contemplated for a few seconds, then shook out enough to make it double before popping the pills in his mouth and swallowing them with more scalding coffee.

“So... you don't remember singing?” If Dean had been paying more attention to Castiel and less to the pills, he'd have noticed how sad the angel suddenly sounded. Or maybe not. This was Dean after all.

“Nope. Must've got really shit-faced to black out that badly. Sammy have any trouble dragging my ass to bed when we got back?”

“Umm... not at all,” Castiel said softly, turning away from the hunter. So Dean didn't remember confessing his love? Castiel walked off silently, in the general direction of the room they'd designated as his. Dean just watched him go, confused look on his face.

~~~

Two days later, Dean looked over at his brother as they ate dinner. Cas was... well, to be honest, Dean wasn't exactly a hundred percent sure where the angel had wandered off to this time. He was somewhere in the bunker, but other than that? “Has Cas seemed... kinda down to you lately?” Dean asked, worry very evident in his voice.

Sam already knew everything that had gone down in the kitchen two days prior, as he'd been the one to comfort Cas when he'd found him crying and alone in one of the storage areas. Cas had made Sam promise not to tell Dean why, or about what had happened at the bar that started this all, and while Sam didn't agree with his reasoning (and he also kinda wanted to punch his brother a little bit for being such an insensitive jerk), he'd finally agreed to keep quiet about the whole thing. So instead of lecturing his brother for being a grade-A ass, and telling him to stop repressing every positive emotion ever, Sam just shrugged and replied “Yeah, a bit I guess.”

“Any ideas why? I hate the idea of him sulking 'round here, when I could be doing something to help.” Dean took another huge bite of his burger.

Because you said you loved him and then freaking forgot it even happened! “Not sure,” Sam managed to say in a much calmer voice than his inner dialogue. “Maybe you oughta find him and ask him yourself?” That wasn't breaking his promise, right?

“Yeah,” Dean said, nodding to himself. “I think I will.”

~~~

It actually took over an hour of searching for Dean to finally find Cas. If he hadn't known better, he seriously would have thought that the angel was moving around just to avoid him. But he did know better, right? Shit, he didn't say something really stupid when he was drunk, did he?

He'd started writing his long and drawn out apology in his head about how much of an idiot drunk Dean was and how deeply sorry sober Dean was for anything stupid that may have been said or done, when he turned the corner and knocked right into Cas, who was also not paying attention to where he was going. They ended up in a heap on the floor in whatever random hallway this was (Dean would never admit that he was lost, only... slightly misplaced momentarily, but hey, this place was really big, so it totally wasn't his fault).

“Shit Cas, I'm sorry,” Dean said, jumping up and holding out his hand to help his friend get up too. When Cas ignored the offered hand, that's when Dean knew he must've said or done something truly heinous. “You okay?” He asked, almost shakily. Was an apology even gonna fix this?

“Yes Dean, I'm fine. We both know I've taken far worse falls than that before.” Cas dusted off his coat, which he was still wearing even inside the bunker. It stirred something in Dean's memory, something about singing and looking at Cas in his coat and thinking... but it was gone before he could grab it and actually remember.

“I was trying to find you...” Dean offered, and swallowed hard. Cas just nodded, so he continued, or at least tried to. “You've seemed kinda down lately, and...” Dean started fidgeting with his hands, feeling incredibly awkward since he was apparently about to apologize for something he couldn't remember. “And, well, it seemed like it started after I got drunk at karaoke, and I'm maybe kinda worried that I said or did something something really stupid and I'm really sorry for whatever it was.” He finally took a breath after that mouthful, and looked into Cas' eyes. There was definitely sadness there, maybe even more than had been there before. Had he seriously just fucked everything up further?

Cas just sighed and looked away. “It's okay Dean,” he said softly, before starting to walk away.

“Shit, Cas, I seriously don't know what I did to fuck this up, but I promise to never do it again!” Dean called after him, somewhat frantically. Cas just kept walking. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Dean muttered to himself, trying to find his way back to anywhere that he recognized.

When he finally got to his room, he couldn't help himself, and grabbed one of his secret stash of liqueur bottles. Not even bothering with a glass, he took a long chug straight from the bottle. That look in Cas' eyes was gonna fucking haunt him for eternity.

Half a bottle later saw Dean just as drunk as he'd been at karaoke, if not worse. Stumbling off to the kitchen because he suddenly really wanted some potato chips, he stopped when he saw Cas standing by the sink. “Hey, Caaaaassss...” He said, drawing out the angel's name and only slurring slightly. “Whatcha up ta?”

“Dean, you're drunk again,” Cas said before sighing and turning away.

“And you're... cute.” Dean had plenty of other great compliments for the angel, the sexy smoldering thing of wonder in front of his very eyes, but pretty much all that could come out was that one. “So fuckin' cute.”

“Dean, I don't want to go through with this again.”

“Again?” Dean was confused, and he tried to do that head tilt thing that Cas did that made him go weak in the knees sometimes, but he leaned too far into it and almost fell over. Cas ran over to catch him in time, and tried to help him stand up and stay steady. Seeing this as the perfect chance, Dean wrapped his arms around Cas' neck and stared him right in the eye. “Love you,” he said softly, before going in for a kiss.

At first, Cas was way too shocked to react. But then, even knowing Dean's state of inebriation, he started to kiss back. Dean's tongue pushed its way into Cas' mouth, and the kiss deepened, causing Cas to moan just slightly. Dean's mouth tasted like some kind of alcohol Cas hadn't tried before, probably some kind of whiskey knowing Dean, and Cas knew he'd never be able to look at a liqueur store the same way again. Dean pushed his body closer against the angel's, hands moving on his back now, and Cas could feel the hardness in the hunter's pants, a hardness that brushed against his own and felt better than anything else ever had.

And that was what broke Cas out of the almost trance that he'd been in. Dean may have wanted him, in a “crushing” way even, but he was also drunk. He wouldn't even remember this come morning, most likely. Cas used all his willpower to push Dean away. Dean whimpered and tried to get closer again, but Cas stood his ground.

“C'mon Cas, I want you. I fucking need you...” Dean whined.

“You're drunk,” Cas said halfheartedly. Why couldn't he be like this when he possessed all his reason?

“But... but I love you,” Dean said in his most pitiful sounding voice.

“But only when you're drunk,” Cas mono-toned, before leaving the room and a sexually frustrated drunken hunter behind.

“Well, fuck,” Dean said to himself, before sliding into one of the chairs and promptly falling asleep.

~~~

Dean was woken up the next morning by a glass of ice cold water being splashed into his face. He was immediately out of the chair and in a fighting stance, before grabbing his aching head in his hands as the hangover hit him with a vengeance. “The fuck?” He shouted to whoever had thrown the water, since he still couldn't manage to pry his eyes open just yet. The ceiling light was way brighter than it had any right to be, and the water running down his face didn't help matters any.

“You got drunk last night, and I don't know what the fuck you did to Cas but he freaking left an hour ago looking devastated and wouldn't say when he'd be back, you gigantic ass!” Sam shouted at him. Dean held his hands to his ears, the headache already bad enough without adding in any loud noises.

“I... what... huh?” Dean asked, barely able to form words, let alone coherent sentences.

“He looked close to tears and wouldn't tell me a damn thing, but I knew it had to be your fault when I saw you passed out in the kitchen, smelling of cheap whiskey.” Sam started pacing, really working up into his anger.

“Coffee... coffee then thinking,” Dean said, trying to wipe the worst of the water off his face. It kept dripping down from his hair, so this was a losing battle all around.

As pissed off as Sam was at his brother for hurting Cas, he was at least willing to offer that one concession. Starting up the coffee brewing like it was second nature (and with how much the three of them went through in an average day, it pretty much was), Sam led his soggy older brother to a dry chair and helped him sit back down. “Now, what happened?” Sam asked after Dean was sipping at his full mug, wincing every so often.

“I don't actually remember. I finally found Cas in the hallway, and I apologized and it was like that made him even sadder. That look in his eyes, I...” Dean shuddered and paused to take a few more slow sips. “It killed me, and I may have drank about a half bottle or so of that cheap stuff we found a few months back, that whiskey with the impossibly high proof. I must've been really drunk, because I remember something about potato chips, then it's a complete blank until you threw that water on me.”

“You deserved it,” was all Sam said in response.

“Yeah, probably. Did I really hurt Cas that bad? I mean, I don't know what I did...”

“Probably confessed your love again,” Sam interrupted.

“Yeah,” Dean said, nodding his head. “Probably confessed my... wait, what? When the hell did I ever do that?”

“Karaoke,” Sam said before taking a drink of his own coffee. “Near the end of your song, you started shouting about how much you loved him. We almost got kicked out of the bar because of you.”

“No way I ever would've done something that...” Dean trailed off as Sam played the video he'd taken with his phone that night. There Dean was, on stage, the instrumental part of “Enter Sandman” almost drowned out by his confession of both love and lust for Castiel, angel of the lord. Dean's jaw was practically on the floor by the time the video ended. “I... I...” Dean was completely speechless.

“Did you mean it?” Sam asked, serious face activated and ready to kill.

“I don't know... I mean... I... I never thought about it... I never...” Dean trailed off. Now that he thought about it, saw himself freaking shouting it in a crowded room, he realized that he had. “Okay, so, yeah, maybe, I guess? But what do I do?”

“Well, he took off, but he didn't take his car so he'll hafta be back soon,” Sam said, already trying to plot this all out. “Maybe when he gets back, you can tell him?”

“I wouldn't even know where to begin,” Dean sighed.

“At the beginning?” Sam suggested. Dean just smacked him on the shoulder.

“Bitch,” Dean said.

“Jerk,” Sam automatically replied.

“Isn't there another karaoke night tonight?” Dean asked, suddenly hit with inspiration. Total chick flick moment, but it might be enough for Cas?

Sam just stared at Dean, confused, until he explained what he was thinking. Then, he was all smiles and nods.

~~~

Castiel got the text from Sam a few hours after he'd left, asking him if he'd be okay swinging by the bar that night for more karaoke. Apparently, Dean wanted to try apologizing again. Sine the first two efforts hadn't gone all that great, Castiel was almost afraid to say yes, but he knew that it would be even worse if he didn't. When he texted back that he agreed to go, Sam told him to come back home, and that they'd be meeting Dean at the bar, because he was already there now.

Great, just what he needed, even more drunk Dean saying things he couldn't say sober and completely breaking his heart, Castiel grumbled in his head as he headed back to the bunker to meet Sam. This night was not going to be even the slightest bit comfortable.

After a lot of apologies from Sam, they finally headed out. When they walked into the bar, the barkeeper from the last time pulled Sam to the side. “I already told your brother when he got here, but I better not have a repeat of last time.” Sam nodded, and he and Castiel walked over to their booth, already occupied by what seemed like an equally drunk Dean as last night.

“Hey Cas...” Dean said, having trouble focusing his eyes already. It was barely nine o'clock. Cas just sighed and slid in after Sam.

Sam ordered three beers, and Castiel sat awkwardly, trying to look everywhere but at Dean. When the karaoke started up again, Dean's name was the third one called. He made his way carefully to the stage, his drunken state obvious to anybody watching. A few people who had been there last time sat up and looked eagerly at the stage, most likely hoping for another comedic performance.

Castiel gave Sam a pleading look, suddenly wanting to be anywhere but here, but the younger hunter only shook his head. “It'll be just fine, Cas, I promise.”

The opening strains of “Enter Sandman” started, and Castiel tried to hide his face, already terrified of what horrible thing would happen this time.

Unlike last time, Dean seemed to be able to follow the song better. Castiel hoped against hope that that meant he was less drunk this time, and that maybe he wouldn't shout to the rooftops his love that he was too ashamed to speak of without the aid of a large quantity of alcohol running through his veins. When he got to the same place as last time, he stopped singing again and Castiel felt like he'd been kicked. It was going to happen again...

“Hey angel!” Dean said into the microphone. Well, at least this time he wasn't shouting it. “Hey Cas! I love you! Probably always have!”

Castiel sunk into his seat as far as he could. Why did he have to relive this nightmare once again?

“And do you wanna know a secret Cas?” Dean said, sounding less and less slurry as he continued. He waited a few seconds, trying to catch Castiel's attention. Finally, Sam had to nudge him in the ribs to look up. When he did, he saw Dean wink at him. “The secret is, Cas, is that this time I'm not drunk.” Dean put the microphone back into its holder, the end of the song playing out as Dean walked back to the booth in a straight line, not even wavering once. Castiel's eyes widened as he watched. Could it really be?

When Dean reached the booth, he grabbed Castiel by the tie and pulled him up into a kiss. The rest of the audience burst into applause and cheers, and even the bartender rolled his eyes, allowing it this one time because he was a total hopeless romantic at heart.

Pulling away from the kiss finally, Castiel looked into Dean's eyes. “Really?” He asked pleadingly, knowing that Dean would understand exactly what he was asking.

“That beer's the only thing I've had all night,” Dean said, indicating with his head the bottle that was still halfway full sitting on the table. “I love you Cas.”

“I love you too, Dean. Since the very beginning.” They kissed again, and all was forgiven.

The whole rest of the night, the other patrons kept buying them drinks, and Dean was even polite enough to ask Castiel if it'd be okay if he had some now that things were cleared up. Castiel just laughed and pushed a shot glass into the hunter's hand, having switched sides of the booth after Dean's song. “Yes Dean, now it's safe.” They clinked the shot glasses together in a toast, and Castiel had never felt happier. He even forgave Dean later when he was the one dragging the half conscious hunter to his bed. Thankfully, Dean had thought to give permission to Castiel after about the third shot to share his bed that night, so after getting Dean situated, Castiel happily joined him.

The next morning, Dean barely even noticed the hangover.


End file.
